


Experiment

by RussianWitch



Series: Kinktober2018 [18]
Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Fucking Machines, Kinktober 2018, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Non-Sexual Bondage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-20
Updated: 2018-10-20
Packaged: 2019-08-04 20:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16353599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RussianWitch/pseuds/RussianWitch
Summary: Day 18





	Experiment

**Author's Note:**

> not betaed

Steve fights the urge to whine as slick, rubber clad fingers dig into the cheeks of his ass spreading them until he feels a cool draft across his ass hole. He keeps his eyes deliberately closed reminding himself that one word from him will make everything stop.

Only, part of him is as just curious as the two men doing this to him to find out _how much his body will be able to take_.

He's bend over a hurdle, his arms chained to the sides of the contraption and legs kept apart by a spreader bar leaving him—accessible. The lab is usually warmer, but now it's just cool enough to raise gooseflesh all across Steve's body, to keep him wiggling slightly as stray drafts tickle across his skin keeping him on edge as he waits for them to begin.

There is a lot Steve knows about his body: how fast he is, how much stronger than the average man, things the army deemed important to know and things Steve found out by trial and error. Other things—he hadn't even thought about testing, but Tony has in one of his over-caffeinated, sleep deprived and horny moods: he'd wondered.

Since Bruce hadn't seen a reason to step in and stop the proceedings, there Steve was part of one of their 'experiments' in the name of science and Tony's boredom.

A large hand wraps around Steve's dick, and with the rubber gloves, he can't tell if it's Tony or Bruce stroking him lazily, stretching his ball sack to weigh it in his hand.

"We should plug his dick, not even let him leak until it's time. Might keep the mess down as well." Bruce suggests sounding bored like he's reading statistics or a phone book.

Steve has tried to ignore the neat tray they've set up in arm's reach with several implements to help them reach their goal. One of them is a long, narrow pin-like object with a bulb at the head that Steve had been wondering about—he isn't wondering any longer, his mind goes blank with nerves at the prospect of getting something _inserted_ into his dick.

"Is he dripping that much already?" Tony wonders from behind Steve, helping him orient a bit as he's opened up. Rubber clad fingers massage his asshole until the muscle yields, and the tips slip inside of him. He half expects the fingers to be pushed in fully in one go, but Tony lingers exploring the twitching rim that fights to tighten around his digits. Steve isn't used to being teased this way. Usually Tony is far too greedy to tease him that way. Steve bites his lip as Tony's fingers scissor just inside of him. Two fingers turn into four and Steve's asshole is forced open, stretched slowly and steadily until he feels like he's gaping.

"Come see this, Bruce!" Tony sounds breathless, his fingers shaking a little as Steve's sphincter fights to close. The hand playing with his dick and balls trails up Steve's side, then down his back and ass until they can join the fingers already inside of Steve stretching him further.

Bruce pushes deeper, and for an instant, Steve is afraid that he's going to get a fist up his ass without preparation—only for Bruce to pull back.

"Look at that pretty pink hole; something tells me it's going to be red and sloppy by the time we're done." It's probably Bruce's hand that lands on Steve's left cheek with a stinging slap, nails digging into Steve's flesh through the rubber.

Tony's hands disappear leaving Steve's hole to try and close, already missing the invasion.

Steve doesn't have to miss it for long, something thin and firm is pushes into him that turns out to be a nozzle that fills him with what Steve assumes to be lube. He tightens his muscles to keep any of the lube from escaping and is patted on the ass in reward.

"Now keep still, sugar plum," Tony warns, something squeaks, possibly the wheels of another covert cart Steve saw when entering the lab. He feels something rounded and solid line up against his asshole, pressing just hard enough to tease and keep the lube from leaking, but not enough to sooth the emptiness inside of him.

The sensation is enough to tease the first audible moan from Steve's lips.

Warm glove free hands cup Steve's face gently guiding his head back.

"Open your eyes, hot stuff," Tony murmurs next to his ear his mustache ticking against Steve's skin. Reluctantly he obeys blinking a couple of times before he can focus on Tony's face. "Still with us handsome?"

"Whaaat?" He manages to slur and gets petted in reward.

"There are those baby blue's!" Tony grins leaning in for a sloppy kiss.

Steve moans in protest when he finally pulls away.

"Now, now, don't get greedy," Tony murmurs nipping along Steve's lips and jaw his fingers digging into the top of Steve's spine.

"Sor—," He starts to say, but the thing pressing against his ass moves, pushing into him taking Steve's breath away.

It's thicker than he expects, longer as well and far less flexible than an actual dick, far more _invasive._ Steve is tempted to fight the restraints keeping him still, but he's agreed to this, and despite the discomfort, there is something about the steady rhythm that's—tempting.

The machine won't tire, won't slow or speed up unless one of the two men watching decides to adjust its intensity. Sooner or later even Steve's stamina will give out, and the machine will still keep going. He groans at the thought fear and anticipation twining in his gut.

"2 A.M., subject in fine health, no signs of major discomfort," Bruce says.

Like JARVIS isn't recording everything already, "currently, issue is negligible." He strokes the underside of Steve's dick, teasing him until Steve feels himself leak. "Next check-in, in half an hour."

Steve opens his mouth to protest, only to have it filled with a rubber ball, the straps fastened behind his head.

Another ball is pressed into his hand, "you know what to do with this," Bruce reminds him, walking away.

Steve can hear them moving around the lab, asking for displays and moving things around ignoring him completely as the machine roots into his body making it difficult to think. The bond turn from restricting to embracing, Steve finds himself grateful for them, so he doesn't have to pay attention to staying upright.

The chilly breeze cools his slowly overheating skin, it feels like a caress on his sweaty back. It tightens his nipples and plays over the wet head of his dick making him overly away of the moisture welling from his piss-slit and getting shaken off into the wide-mouthed beaker situated under him.

Sooner or later, he's going to come, spill himself into the beaker, the gag muffling his gasps and groans, but the machine will keep going. Even after he's hanging in his bonds, sobbing into the gag, it will keep going—until it drives Steve insane.


End file.
